


Repaying a loan

by Ame_No_Uzume



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Blackmail, Exhibitionism, F/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27635981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ame_No_Uzume/pseuds/Ame_No_Uzume
Summary: It's a smart move, as a business man, to diversify. Someone said that to Don Corneo long ago, he doesn't remember who, yet the idea was appealing. As a criminal boss in the underbelly of Midgar, having a secondary source of income is as vital as breathing. It may even come with some bonuses, if he plays his cards right.
Relationships: Don Corneo/Tifa Lockhart
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. Business meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! This is my first attempt at something like this, so a disclaimer is in order:
> 
> First of all, english is not my native tongue. I'm doing my best here, but I have much to learn. Feel free to comment anything you want!  
> Also, despite what the title says, I don't really know that much about loans. I hope you forgive me for any innacuracies, yet… I think we can all agree these technicalities are only a secondary issue in this fanfic.
> 
> I hope you like it as much as I did!

The sun was still on its zenith —or it would be, in the upper crust of the city— as Don Corneo walked up the stairs of his mansion. He carried a small yellow folder, tucked at his armpit.

“Kotch, come here,” he said, as he opened the double doors to his office. He walked to the centre of the finely decorated room as his trusty goon approached him. “Someone _very_ special is coming today, and I want you there. You have to start learning the ropes if you are to be my second in command anyway, so… two birds with one stone.”

“Someone from Shinra?”

“Nope.” He sat in his chair, leaving the folder on the desk. The don reached for his phone, using the internal line. “Leslie, you can let her in.” He grinned at Kotch before spinning his chair in delight, just like a child would. He then combed his hair with a smidge of spit, and the tiny moustache as well. Inside one of the drawers of his desk was a small black case. He took it and placed on the table.

Moments later, the doors at his office opened. A brunette walked in.

The woman was a sight to behold. Dark brown hair, almost completely black, falling over her back. An athletic and muscular build encapsulated in a slender build, accentuated tenfold by her choice in clothes: White tank top, black pleated skirt with suspenders and matching black stockings.

The don made an effort to contain a grin while looking at the exposed midriff. He had a job to do, after all. His lips did go up a little, though.

“Don Corneo, I presume?” asked the woman, as she closed in.

“The one and only. And you must be…” the don reached for the case beside him, from which he took out a pair of glasses. The elegant design of the glasses clashed head on with his overall flamboyant looks, but nonetheless he put them on. After quickly searching in the forefront of the folder, he continued. “… miss Tifa Lockhart, right? Can I call you Tifa? Please, have a seat.”

The woman surveyed the office without trying to conceal her distaste. She made her way to the chair in the centre, just in front of the don’s desk.

“How was your journey?” he said with a smile, “The seventh district is not far from here, but it’s a dangerous city.”

“It was… okay. If you don’t mind, let’s get down to business, okay? I don’t want to… steal more of your time.”

So much for pleasantries. The woman made no effort containing her aversion. That was fine, the don liked women like that: rebellious.

“Of course.” He chuckled. “As you know, I recently purchased _‘_ Six Loans’, the primary loan firm here in the Wall Market. I have been running checks on the loanees —the sensible thing to do when you buy a new business, really— and I have found some troubling figures on _your_ loan, Tifa. Your establishment is… fifty thousand gil in debt. Moreover, from what I can see here,” he put on his glasses again, “every payment of the last six months has been lower than what was agreed.”

He noticed how Tifa crossed her arms, as well as her legs soon after. She remained silent, looking at the don, as if trying to assess the man in front of her.

“I am aware of your situation,” he said, keeping the posh speech he used while working. “The economic status of your district is not in the best of shapes, I know. These numbers, however… are not good.”

With that, she finally spoke:

“Y-Yes. You are completely right.” Every word struggled to leave her mouth. “After buying the bar, we did some major renovation and… well, the sales have been slow. But I assure you, we are recovering. These last two months we’ve had more patrons than ever. It’s a slow start, I know. We just need more time to catch up with the payments. That’s the only thing we need.”

“I understand. I really do. But you must understand me too. I have a business to manage. And fifty thousand gil is not pocket change. It’s a lot of money —money I’m losing. I fail to realize how ‘Six Loans’ let you have this debt. I’m sorry, it just can’t do. In these last two months, even with your so called ‘increase in patronage’ your bar has failed to reach the bare minimum. And I’m not even talking about the interest.”

She looked restless, shifting in her seat.

“Please. Please, Don Corneo. We just need a bit more time. We’ll get your money, I promise.”

The don closed his eyes, as in deep in thought. He crossed his arms, meditating an answer. The woman pleaded some more, and he enjoyed every second of it.

“I could make an exception… if you could do something for me, that is.”

Her whole posture changed at those words. Her body was alert, as if expecting a fight.

“What?”

“Could you… lift your skirt for me?” He grinned from ear to ear.

Not even a second passed, and Tifa stood, grimace taking over her expression.

“You _pig_.” She spat the words.

As she was turning to leave, a voice echoed through the room. Don Corneo’s tone was now cold, intense.

“You still owe me fifty thousand gil, sweetie. I’m only trying to help you here. If you don’t want it, that’s fine, but I want my money. I’ll give you three days. Fail to deliver the gil and I’ll send word to Shinra. I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to evict you from your bar.

No sooner Don Corneo stopped talking, she continued her way out. A door slam echoed through the room.

A small, half-supressed grin evolved into a full on laugh. As the don crackled over his desk, Kotch walked through the room.

“That went… well.”

“That was delightful!”

“Do you think we’ll see her again? She might flee the city,” said Kotch.

“No, she won’t. She’ll come back, I’m sure.” A glint of mischief appeared in the don’s eyes. “And she won’t have the money.”

“How are you so sure?”

“I have the CEO of ‘Triden-Loans’ in fast-dial, and I sent notice to the lesser loan firms. She’s blacklisted. Unless she has that money already, she has only two options: either she flees Midgar, or she returns.”

A hint of approval could be seen in Kotch’s face.

“And how do you know she won’t flee? She must know how powerful you are.”

“Her bar is a terrorist hideout.”

The lackey blinked several times, his brain trying to catch up with the sentence.

“What!?”

“I sent one of my boys to the bar,” he said. “It’s a dumpster, but has clientele. The chumps of the neighbourhood, for sure. The bar has money, she just spends it somewhere else. By the amount, my guess is a terrorist group. That sector has always been a spawn point for those suckers.”

He sorted the papers and stored them neatly inside the folder. After that, he handed it to Kotch.

“She’ll come, you’ll see.” He grinned. “Take this to Luca, he’ll know what to do.”

Kotch nodded, obeying his boss’ command.

As soon as he left, Don Corneo tidied his desk, putting his glasses in the desk drawer. He made his way to the cabinet on the side of the office, and took out a nice corelian wine. As he poured his drink and relaxed in his seat, he once more reached for his phone.

Takoyaki. A simple dish he saw on one of the many stores on Wall Market caught his interest early that morning. He asked his goons to fetch him that. A different meal, to change the pace.

The door opened, Kotch smiled as he entered.

“Boss, you won’t believe this!” There was a hint of giddiness in his voice that was hard to miss. “That girl, Tifa, she’s still here! I saw her standing awkwardly at the entrance, and she sure saw me. I think she’ll come.”

His smile was infectious, as Don Corneo now grinned like a child with unopened presents.

Half a minute later, the don’s office doors were open yet again. The brunette appeared to be as distressed as she was annoyed for being where she was.

“Tifa! Good to see you so soon! Did you reconsider?”

Her breath was rough as she made her way in, both men could tell even from a distance. She was pissed beyond belief. She stood there, arms crossed, eyes fulminating the well decorated desk.

“J-Just so that we are clear,” her voice was quivering, anger was the most likely cause, “I do this and the loan is pardoned, right?”

Don Corneo snorted, a laugh taking over soon enough. Kotch cackled beside him.

“Wrong.” He said, still giggling. “You do this and I let you have the loan without evicting you from the bar.”

Tifa gritted her teeth and closed her fists. She steadied her breathing, closed her eyes. For long seconds she just stood there.

Then, in slow movements, she reached for the hem of her skirt. She toyed with the fabric, her fingers trembling as she did. In a fast motion, she lifted it up. Her eyes were closed, trying to evade the gazes of the men, her lips, completely shut.

Black spandex shorts, hugging tight to the muscular legs, embracing with care her most private areas. The skin bended ever so slightly against the elastic cloth. Don Corneo whistled in approval. He side-glanced the shorts, of course, but his main focus was Tifa’s expression: The brunette was absolutely mortified.

“Sweetie, you’ve probably heard this a thousand times, but you are lovely.”

Tifa covered the view, not a hint of red colouring her cheeks.

“Well, there you have it. Are you happy?” she spat.

“Very. Now take it off, please.”

“What?” Surprise overtook her. “No! That was not part of the deal!”

“Of course it was.” He grinned. “It’s not my fault you left in a hurry and couldn’t hear the rest of it.”

“T-This…! This is…!”

“If you don’t like it, you are more that welcome to leave.” The words were said in a playful manner, the implication they concealed was not. “Let me remind you: I’m aiding you. Though you’re always allowed to pay me the gil you owe me, if you don’t want my help.”

Contempt spread through every pore on her body. Her fists were clenched so hard they trembled. A thousand emotions were displayed on her face, all synonyms of the same word: wrath.

“Oh, and, by the way,” Don Corneo added, “unless you’re using those shorts as underwear, I want you to take them off _and_ whatever you have underneath.”

The don chuckled to himself. He knew how far to push someone, and that was the limit for her. Any more and there would be a fight. And, by the reports, Kotch would have a hard time against her.

Hatred, disgust, aversion, loathing beyond imagination. The brunette’s eyes were really expressive. Yet, one emotion started to gain ground. Don Corneo was searching for it: resignation.

Tifa gritted her teeth, grimace spreading through her face.

She introduced both her hands below her skirt, a small glimpse of the shorts could be seen in the process. Her fingers grabbed the inside of the waistband and, with a swift movement, she yanked the shorts down. The skirt was still in place, yet the rest of her undergarments were now sliding down her legs. Inside the shorts was a white piece of clothing, her panties, without a doubt. The don, as well as Kotch, watched her every move with renewed interest.

As she bended over, her legs stretched, Tifa realized something. Her big, red, stylish boots were in the way. She cursed aloud, provoking a chuckle from both Kotch and the don.

She struggled for a second, trying to manoeuvre the cloth through her legs. It didn’t work. As any movement made her self-conscious, she stopped to think. The brunette squatted, or thought of, as she halted mid-motion, glancing both men.

“Do you need any help, sweetie?” asked Don Corneo, enjoying every moment.

If gazes could kill, the don would be dead ten times over. He only shrugged, smile still in full force.

The shorts were lifted up to her knees, as she made her way to a chair. She sat, careful not to show anything, tugging the skirt against her skin to secure it, blocking any possible view. Only then she untied her shoes, as watchful as before.

Seconds later, the shorts were not in her legs anymore. She stared at her undergarments for a brief moment, her lips shut tight. With fury she tossed them towards the don.

The first thing he did was to take a big, long, blissful sniff. He closed his eyes, recreating himself on the scent of the woman most inner aromas, and he groaned aloud.

“Delicious.”

He attempted to see her reaction, but her attention was on the floor. He grinned, for what looked like the thousandth time. With care he folded both pieces of cloth and stored them inside one of the desk’s drawers.

After another chuckle, he reached for his phone. “Aaron, please, be a dear and call Luca. Tell him to bring me the ‘Seventh Heaven’ file.”

He took his time, combing his hair and moustache again.

“Tifa, my dear Tifa,” he smiled. “Now I know of your dedication to your establishment. Rest assured, our business deal will continue. Though… could you not wet my furniture?” He pointed at the chair.

Her face shifted yet again. It was difficult to grasp just how mad she was when the display of anger increased every time. She was ready to retort, yet she didn’t. With fury in her eyes, she got up, hands against her skirt, standing completely straight.

“Be grateful of our boss’ compassion,” said Kotch, not even bothering to hide his smile.

The brunette didn’t even side-glance him, his entire attention focused on the don. He, on the other hand, found himself giggling at the sight: Her awkward pose didn’t match her wrath, yet it was truly breath-taking.

“That said,” the don added, “I would like to modify the contract, with your permission, of course. Just a little, don’t be alarmed. You are a dangerous asset, I’m afraid.”

“Modify… the contract?”

“Nothing major, I assure you. For you, I’ll almost be as if nothing has changed.”

The double doors leading to the office opened with vigour, creating a gentle gust of wind. Tifa’s miniskirt elevated against her wishes, enough to leave her unshaved pussy exposed for everyone to see. She promptly put it back, gritting her teeth and staring daggers through her eyes at the don’s lackey, who was making his way to him.

Don Corneo’s face hurt from so much smiling. He felt a tingling sensation on the base of his stomach, and at the tip of his cock. That woman was something else.

“Luca, my dear, just in time. Did you bring me the file?”

The young lad nodded, a familiar folder in hand. As Don Corneo opened it, the lackey bowed and left as swiftly as he came. The doors closed, creating another gust of wind. This time Tifa was prepared, holding the folds of her skirt against her tights.

“Let’s see what we have here.” He had his glasses on, yet again. “Okay, since your bar is in the red, how about… reducing the interest? You have a standard 20%, as per usual in loans. What do you say if we reduce it to… 5% in the following months? It will increase the length of the loan, of course, but it would allow your bar to recover faster.”

Her anger did not subside, but was confused for a solid second.

“That… would be… great…”

“I’m glad we think alike,” he grinned. “Also, I was thinking of decreasing the time between payments. Your bar is, as of now, a dangerous asset, so meeting twice a month would be the best. For you it’d be almost the same, as the amount of money would be split in half for each payment, but this arrangement would allow us to discuss possible solutions if problems arise.” He took out his glasses, leaving them on the desk. “What do you say?”

She didn’t answer, meditating his words. As Don Corneo suspected, she was no fool. That was a known and reliable tactic: offer a discount, with a downside. And a 15% discount was really good news for a failing business. Especially if it was recovering, as she claimed.

While in her own world, Don Corneo studied the woman. She was beautiful when she was mad, and she seemed smart, which was always a plus.

She would make a splendid wife, he thought.

“I… accept the new terms.”

The new arrangement was settled swiftly. They spent almost an hour on the official documents, as Tifa demanded to read every sentence of every page of the contract. Don Corneo had no objections, as that allowed him to observe the woman even more, and maybe steal a peek or two beneath the skirt if he was lucky.

The whole transaction could have been taken care of by his accountant, as he always did, but not this time. There was something in that girl. Something special.

He finally got to eat his desired takoyaki. With a plate filled with the treat in his hands he saw the brunette leave the mansion, folder in hand, in short and careful steps.

The flavour reminded him of her.

“Kotch,” he said, his mind someplace else, “I believe we have interesting months ahead of us.”


	2. To catch a liar – Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second meeting went... better, way better, than the first. At least from Tifa's perspective. The third meeting is around the corner and... it's not looking good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole situation was supposed to be just one chapter. As I was writting it, however, it kept getting bigger and bigger, so I had to split it.
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoy it! As always, feel free to comment anything you want!

The streets were narrow, oppressive, and ominous. Tifa felt claustrophobic as she approached the reigning mansion on the far side of the Wall Market. People laughed around her, lights dancing on every store, on every club. It did nothing to soothe the apprehension growing inside.

Without drawing attention, she sneaked through one of the many badly-lit backstreets. In one of the dead-ends she found some rusty containers, some boxes and junk tossed aside. That would have to do. Behind the least awful box she hid a bag, containing a new set of clothes. Tifa herself wore an old set of her usual attire: she wouldn’t take any chances.

Returning to the main street was harder than it seemed. She tried to steel her heart, to calm her nerves, to no avail. There was nothing else to do except the inevitable. Her resolve was faltering by the second. She gritted her teeth in resignation as she glanced at the don’s mansion.

Dread escalated inside Tifa as she crossed the wooden bridge, the lavish entrance just in front of her. This sight haunted her for the third time. With any luck, it would be like the second meeting, with that greasy, awful failure of a human pig letting her go without doing _anything_. That had been weird, she had to acknowledge, but she had reached the goal for the payment. Almost. Just short of a couple hundred gil. She guessed it was a poor attempt to look generous. If he really thought she would just swoon over him for that, he was in for a surprise.

That had been a blessing in disguise. This week, however, was a different story.

Three days ago Avalanche had a major operation. One of the trains of the upper crust of the city was derailed, blocking a tunnel and collapsing the transit in rush hour. Shinra dispatched hundreds of operatives to fix the mess. It was a total success for the group, but… to do that, the team used weapons and equipment. _Expensive_ weapons and equipment. And they used the revenue from the bar, as was the intended purpose.

Tifa had only managed to pay half of what was agreed to. This time… that pig wouldn’t be so lenient. The brunette was certain, he would do something today.

She shuddered, trying —and failing— not think of what was to come. She had to do this, she reminded herself yet again.

“I’m here to see Don Corneo,” she spat to one of the guards.

He eyed her, head to toes, saying nothing in return. Then he walked to a little metal compartment disguised in the wall beside them, where a phone was hidden. He was announcing her arrival, and requesting passage through the mansion, as he had done the previous times as well.

While waiting, one of the other two lackeys approached her, a smirk in his face.

“Hey beautiful, I know you have a thing with the boss, but if you are free after… I could show you a massage parlour I work in,” he winked. “It’ll be worth your time, I assure you. I’m not called ‘Magic Hands Mike’ for nothing.

Tifa snorted.

“I wouldn’t let you touch me for all the gil in the world.”

The third goon laughed out loud, making his companion recoil, caught off balance with the retort. Moments later she got clearance to enter the mansion, negating the goon the possibility of a rebuke.

The highly ornamented interior was an uneasy mix between actual decent interior design and an innate, almost obsessive, need to show off. Everything had beautiful patterns, from the walls to the smallest jade pot. Everything shone, lights of a wide variety of colours and intensities. It was too much.

“Hello, hot stuff!” Tifa heard from the counter at the side. Another one of those similar looking goons. Did he order them in bulk? “Back again? Don Corneo must treat you well…”

She stared daggers at him, making him flinch.

“U-Untamed, I see,” he muttered. “The don awaits you at his office.”

The stairs creaked as she climbed up, each step loud as a nail in her coffin. She noticed other men around the place, all leering at her, barely hiding their intent. She forced them out of her head. Hell was about to happen, and she had to be ready.

The double doors were in the same place as always, every detail of the lavish decoration exactly as she remembered, as they appeared in her recent nightmares. She controlled her breath yet again, bracing her whole self for the conversation that was about to happen.

“Let’s get this over with,” she whispered to herself.

Tifa opened the doors.

“Look who’s here! My favourite business partner!” Don Corneo wore a smile as big as his face. “Tifa, my dear, how have you been?”

She remained silent, making her way to the guest’s chair. That was fine. That was so incredibly fine.

“Lovely,” he said, treating the silence as an answer. “May I offer you something? Tea? Coffee, perhaps?”

Silence yet again.

“Always so frugal. I can’t say I don’t like it, though. Anyway, let’s talk business.” He opened the folder and started to inspect the documents inside. It was a pantomime, of course, as he checked the figures regularly. He knew before she came that this week’s payment was way below what it should be; he intended to profit from it, no more generosity this time. And, because he wanted to play his cards right, a little performance was in order.

He inspected Tifa with the corner of his eyes. Arms crossed, serious expression. In the trained businessman's eyes, she screamed anxiety.

“My dear, what happened?” He contained a laugh. “You were doing so well…”

“We had some… untimely expenses. I’m sorry Don Corneo, it won’t happen again.”

“Untimely expenses?” He took out his glasses, as if to inquire more about the matter. He didn’t actually care.

“Yes, that is what I said.” She crossed her arms even tighter. “Our liquor stock ran out and we had to resupply in short notice.”

Don Corneo was a little disappointed. It was painfully obvious she would try to make up an excuse but… he expected something more elaborate. This took out part of the fun. Still, it was nice to have confirmation: he was almost certain she belonged to that group, the one of the attack on the train. It was information he could use, in the right time and place. He returned to the present, storing those thoughts for later, and decided to press the issue.

“You must think I’m stupid, right?” he said. Tifa stiffened ever so slightly. “A kind of fool who doesn’t know how bars and restaurants work, I guess. Resupplying doesn’t cost that much. Not for an establishment of your size, at least. So, either you’re lying about the whole thing, or you’re omitting important details. Both are really poor choices considering the situation you find yourself in. Want to amend your previous statement?

“I… uh… I-I…”

Tifa froze in her seat, mumbling to herself. A rapid glance at Kotch, at his side, revealed what he already knew: he had her. That smile couldn’t mean anything else.

“This is not going to work,” he sighed. “One thing is not having enough money. I can understand that, and I can be lenient, forgiving. But lying to me is whole other matter. Kotch, you know the number for Urban Development?”

“N-No!” she stood up, closing the distance and putting her hands on the table. “Don Corneo, please. I can pay you, I promise.”

He didn’t pay attention to her, only looking at Kotch. Both men knew the cards they had to play.

“Your agenda might have the number, boss.”

“Right, right,” the don chuckled. _So that is his course of action, huh. Rather bold, but I like it. Decisive, to the point. Yes, I like it_.

He opened the agenda and started searching for the number while the spectacular brunette was trying —and failing— to convince him to stop. Her pleas were delicious. All pleas were delicious, but this one… he could almost taste the desperation, the distress, the… resentment. It made Don Corneo all giddy inside.

Moments later, phone in hand, he was waiting for the line to connect. By that point, Tifa was begging for forgiveness. It would’ve been easy to stop, to capitalize on the success, but he was following a plan to achieve even greater gains. He paid no mind to the beautiful brunette.

“Good afternoon,” said a feminine voice on the other side of the phone. “This is Urban Development. How may I help you?”

“Good afternoon to you too, sweetie.” He stole a glance at Tifa, her face white as a paper sheet. “You see, I have a problem with some tenants and I would like to evict them. With who may I talk to… start the process?” He chuckled. “I’m sorry, dear, it’s my first time doing this. I don’t know the proper procedure.”

The voice giggled.

“It’s quite alright, sir. I’ll contact the operators in charge of urban management. May I have your name?”

“Don Corneo.”

There was a sudden silence.

“T-Thank you. I’ll… contact someone shortly. Please, wait.”

“Of course.”

His radiant smile was a distinct contrast with Tifa’s dread all over her face.

“Please, Don Corneo. Don’t… Please, don’t.” The brunette was almost… frightened by the whole exchange. Her hands moving everywhere, with no purpose or idea, completely powerless to stop him.

_With the seeds firmly planted, the next step of our plan should…_

“Girl,” Kotch said, “you are doing this wrong.”

She glanced at him, saying nothing.

“Do you know how many people beg the don every day? Dozens.” He continued. “I’d try something different to stand out, if I were you.”

“Like what?”

“Well… this is just a guess, but the last one to succeed bowed to him. Y’know, to show him the respect he deserves.”

Tifa was bewildered. She gritted her teeth, deep in thought for a moment. She glanced at both men, then frowned —which immediately transformed into a scowl. After a moment of deliberation, the brunette let a small sigh leave her lips. Then she pressed her arms against the torso and bowed, her upper half almost horizontal.

“P-Please, Don Corneo!”

“No, no,” Kotch said, concealing a grin, “Wutaian style.”

Realization led Tifa from a scowl to a barely contained outrage.

That was it. That was the expression he remembered so fondly. Don Corneo liked the disgust, loved the contempt, but that one, that fury, that wrath… drove him mad.

Everyone knew about the Wutaian bow. It was an ancient and very formal expression of respect, portrayed extensively in films and TV shows. An acceptable bow required the person attempting it to kneel, with the lower part of the leg —from the knee down— resting on the floor. Then you had to bend forward the upper torso, with the forehead almost touching the ground.

Tifa closed her eyes, deep in though, or perhaps trying to contain her emotions. Either way, Don Corneo was struggling not to laugh out loud.

In a slow, obviously unwanted, action, Tifa kneeled in front of the desk. She took her time, in long and deep breaths, but she finally bent her upper body. The brunette lowered her head to level ground, her long silky hair spread over the rug in the process.

“P-Please…” a faint sound escaped Tifa’s mouth. “I… I beg of you…”

The don, and Kotch at his side, leaned at the same time to get a better view. They both looked at each other, sporting wide smiles, and shared a thumbs up with one another.

Then, out of nowhere, a voice startled him.

“Don Corneo?”

He remembered the call, and the phone in his hand.

“Y-Yes?”

“I’m afraid there are no operators available at this moment,” the girl said. “H-However, someone from upper management will attend your call, if you’d be so kind to wait just a little longer.”

The don was about to answer when he heard another voice. Kotch’s voice.

“It looks like it’s not working, girl.”

_What is he…?_

“I’ll…” he found himself saying, “…wait.”

Tifa raised her posture. Her face was a mess, despair at every muscle. She looked lost and betrayed, all at the same time.

“Sorry girl, I thought for sure… Wait! Maybe… yeah, that could work…”

The don knew his men as well as the palm of his hand. Kotch had always been impulsive, not prone to think in the long term. Was he in one of his famous _hunches_ or… did he actually have a plan?

Whatever he had on his mind, their attention, both Tifa’s and his own, expected its conclusion.

“I have no proof it’ll work, so you’ll have to trust me on this one, but I believe I have the perfect method to reach him. How about you do the exact same thing, the Wutaian bow, but this time… you do it topless?”

Don Corneo’s jaw almost dropped. His gaze went to the brunette on instinct. She was stunned, eyes wide open while, probably not on purpose, shaking her head. From what the don could tell, Tifa was so bewildered she forgot her boiling anger for a solid second.

Her line of sight shifted towards him. In an instant, he tried to look as nonchalant as he possibly could, his fingers playing with the phone cord to create the illusion of boredom, even. He reckoned he wasn’t doing a very good job, but given he wasn’t laughing like a madman at the scene unfolding in front of him, that was as good as it was going to get.

Still, he did get a glimpse of the brunette. Her tough demeanor was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes were pleading, the only part of her still fighting, but not for long. Something inside her broke, he was sure. And he couldn’t show compassion now.

The eye contact broke when a familiar feminine tone spoke to his ear.

“I hope you didn’t wait for long,” she said, “Reeve Tuesti, from upper management will take your call shortly. I hope your issue is resolve quickly and efficiently.”

Tifa, hearing the muffled sounds over the speaker, stood up as an exhalation. The brunette wavered for only a second before turning, now showing her back to both men. She let the suspenders fall, ungracefully, hitting her legs. With a swift motion she took out her white top, revealing a black and tight sports bra.

“Good afternoon, Don Corneo,” someone said, the don couldn’t care for his life who. “My name is Reeve Tuesti. I heard you have some issue you’d like…”

His words disappeared in the background as Tifa, still backwards towards them, stretched the waistband of her bra, leaving enough space for one of her arms to pass through. Both him and Kotch were mesmerized by the brunette’s movements.

With one arm free, Tifa introduced it inside her bra, covering both breasts. The other hand grabbed the now loose cloth and yanked it upwards. She maneuvered to slip her head out and, like that, she was topless.

Her hair was disheveled, spread across her muscular, gorgeous back. From her neck to her skirt there was nothing, only skin. Don Corneo felt her throat dry with need. He wanted, above all, to see her face.

“D-Don Corneo?” an annoying male voice called for him. Whatever.

Tifa turned. Her whole arm was spread sideways, resting on top of her breasts, hiding the core of her chest as best she could. A difficult task, considering the size. The original shape molded, its fat repositioned, peeking over —and under— her arm. As she knelt, he got a glimpse of the real treasure: Loathing. Directed at both herself and him. Lips tight, as usual, and cheeks covered in the faintest of reds, even among mountains of hatred.

At that precise moment he understood something.

He could have her at that very moment. If he pushed for it, she would, eventually, comply. He found himself frowning at the idea. With any other woman… perhaps. With her, with Tifa… no. He’d rather let her regain her strength, her fighting spirit, only to repeat this over and over again.

The brunette didn’t waste time, bending her now naked torso. Seconds passed, as she trembled in the proper position, her forehead touching the decorated rug.

The don found himself smiling at that sight. She was supposed to beg for mercy, right? Well, Don Corneo couldn’t really fault her for not doing that, it was cute in its own right. And she was doing her best, wasn’t she? Shouldn’t he reward that?

“Suckeeeeer!” he shouted at his phone. Then he hung up.

He pondered for a second. _Doing that to a Shinra officer… Well, he was a nobody anyway._

Kotch looked his way, clearly amused by the situation, licking his lips.

“Tifa! My dear Tifa, I’m always impressed by how you manage to convince me every time.” He grinned. “Kotch, you have to watch out, she’s one tough negotiator. Rest assured, we’ll keep the contract, for now.” Tifa didn’t move from her position, still bowed above the rug, yet it seemed like her figure relaxed just a bit.

“Congratulations, girl!” said Kotch. “What do you have to say to the don?”

Her voice, trembling, clashed against the rug.

“T-Thank you…”

_How it’s possible that, even in this situation, she still sounds so livid? I love that woman!_

“You can stop now, Tifa,” the don said. “I’d rather talk to you face to face.”

Seconds passed and she eventually did. First only on her knees, then on her feet. Now both her arms were busy protecting her chest. There were, however, cracks on that wall, and delicious skin could still be seen in-between.

With Tifa standing like that just in front of him, an interesting thought took shape inside the don’s mind. It was a different idea, and he did like different.

“With that settled,” Don Corneo said, “there’s only one issue left. You… lied to me and that is not acceptable.” The sentence caught Tifa completely unaware, dread and terror spreading through her with speed, yet the don held his arm to stop her thoughts. “Nothing big, just a _trust exercise_.”

That wasn’t enough to put at ease the brunette, if her face was any proof, but she didn’t protest. Perhaps Tifa understood she couldn’t actually refuse.

“It is a little shameful to say it but, even a patron of the fine cuisine as myself gets drawn from time to time to a popular dish,” he said. “In my case it’s a small delicacy called ‘takoyaki’. They sell it here, on the Wall Market, and I like to bolster the local economy when I can. So, the exercise, the task if you will, is to go to a store and buy me some takoyaki. Just that. It doesn’t sound so terrible, does it?”

She sighed, looking at the rug below her. _Tifa is a smart girl_ , he thought. _She already knows it won’t be that easy_.

After a pondering moment, a tired nod was her answer. She made her way to the nearby chair, where her remaining clothes were.

“No, no.” Don Corneo said, stifling a giggle. “That won’t be necessary.” He turned to his trusted goon. “Kotch, I believe… we still have some leftover costumes from the party two days ago. Would you fetch one for Tifa?”

Despite the thick black glasses blocking his eyesight, his delight was obvious to anyone who looked. He nodded and promptly left the room. As Kotch left, however, realization dawned on him. It was the first time he was alone with Tifa.

“While we wait, would you like something? Tea? Coffee? I know I asked you before, but…” Tifa shook her head, silent as a tomb. “I see. In that case, would you like to talk? Small talk. We have seen each other quite few times by now, but I feel as I barely know you.”

The woman said nothing. Her defiance was returning, evidenced by a nice mean look on her face.

“Glad you think like me, then.” The don continued. “Kotch will be here in a minute, so… it’s a cliché question, I know, but where are you from? Unless you want to enlighten me about the ‘untimely expenses’ of this week’s payment, of course. Your choice.

_She can fight me at every step of the way if she wants to, I have all the cards today._

The woman sighed, the subjacent hatred never leaving her expression. It was less threatening than usual, as she stood topless, but the sentiment was there.

“I’m… from Costa del Sol.”

“Really? It’s a lovely place, and the beaches are amazing. I’ve been there only twice, years ago. I even got a tan, believe it or not,” he grinned. “Why did you come to the big city? It’s… usually the other way around.”

She shifted awkwardly. For some reason, Tifa became very interested in the stone statues beside him.

“I wanted to… earn some gil. Become famous.”

_That… sounds too typical. Like a lie._

“You have a bar. It’s certainly a start.”

Tifa flinched for a split second. She got the irony of the situation, apparently.

As if hearing a halt in conversation, the doors opened with a loud bang, startling them both. Kotch entered, walking fast, a big box in his hands. The brunette eyed him, and the box, with apprehension.

Don Corneo chuckled.

She had no idea of what was to come.


	3. To catch a liar – Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tifa has managed to evade the worst possible outcome, but the danger still lingers. Will she be able to regain the don's trust?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two, following the adventures of Tifa yet again. This chapter took way to long to finish, because reasons (?), but it's finished at last!
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoy it! As always, feel free to comment anything you want!

_T-This… this is… so disgraceful. So… vulgar, so… so… disgusting._

With a loathing grimace, one expression she was becoming a master at portraying, Tifa looked at her reflection in the mirror. She had heard the stories, of course, but the infamous HoneyBee costume was worse than what she imagined.

She felt, in a lack of a better word, exposed.

The only part of her body with some semblance of protection was, ironically, her chest. Her cleavage was bare for everyone to see —that was inevitable—, but the little fabric the costume had was designed around her breasts, to leave them firmly covered, teasing as much as possible, opting to show her side instead. The rest of the skimpy outfit, however, was practically non-existent. Her back was open. Completely. Tifa could feel the light breeze in Don Corneo’s room —in which he let Tifa change, a gross smile plastered in his face as he suggested it— in places she wasn’t used to. The thought distressed her to no end.

The small bathing suit she was forced to wear reduced its already small surface around the crotch area. Tifa was glad she started shaving down there: there was no guarantee the don wouldn’t ask for a repeat of the previous incident and she didn’t want to feel even more mortified. As expected, her butt was in full view, and the fishnets did little to help, digging into her flesh and enhancing her figure. They were amazing, she’d love to wear them… if not for the situation at hand. Her skin, from the sides of her midriff down to the high heel shoes, was… almost as visible as her back.

It was a costume designed for one, and only one, purpose. And she had to walk through the Wall Market in that stupid thing. Tifa was embarrassed beyond belief, and it hadn’t even started.

_At least he didn’t force me to go topless._

A small comfort, but one she’d take gracefully.

She steeled her heart once more. Avalanche needed her, and she would do anything for them. She… was going to do anything for them.

Tifa left the room, putting the demeaning headband on. She felt her resolve waver as Don Corneo smiled at her arrival. To her surprise, he frowned instants later.

“You look lovely, sweetie. Although…” he turned to face Kotch, “why isn’t she wearing the bowtie? Or the wings? Or even the tail. I love the tail, you know that.”

“Sorry, don. That was the only salvageable costume. The rest were missing, or… dirty.”

The brunette shuddered at the thought. _How disgusting_. Both men seemed nonchalant about the whole exchange, however. Don Corneo even sighed, disheartened by those words. As if what he forced her to wear wasn’t enough.

Tifa coughed, drawing their attention.

“I just need to buy some… takoyaki, right? Is that all?”

“Yes, yes. Kotch here will accompany you to the store. I wouldn’t want to leave a woman unescorted in this part of town, after all.”

She growled in frustration.

_This just keeps getting better. At least that pig isn’t coming, that’s a relief._

“Let’s go then,” she said. “The sooner we leave, the sooner you get your food, don.”

As she started to walk, the clicking of her heels muffled by the rug of the office, Don Corneo called her.

“Wait. Just one more thing.”

He opened one of the drawers of his desk, and took out a small piece of paper. At first she thought nothing of it, but as he started scribbling on it, a chilling dread spread through her very being. Every time something was _added_ to a request, it ended up even worse for her.

“When you walk through that door people will see a HoneyBee employee, so I _must_ insist you remain on your best behaviour, understood? No fights with my staff or the citizens, is that clear?”

As he finished writing, he closed the distance, paper in hand.

“I… okay. No fights.”

“Or angry retorts.”

She sighed, sensing her anger increasing by the second.

“Or angry retorts,” she mumbled.

“Excellent!” he smiled. “Oh, and, by the way, I love the tail in that outfit, so you are going to have one. It’s a replacement but count it as part of the outfit. Don’t take it out.”

Tifa scowled at him and his stupid, gross, ugly face.

“Yes,” she spat. “I won’t. Can I go now?”

The smile that disgusting man had on his face was… off-putting.

She looked at the piece of paper, with a safety pin nailed through it at the top. There was a message written on it, in big bold letters:

SPANK ME

With her brain still trying to catch up to speed, Don Corneo handed the paper to Kotch, who promptly tried to secure it at her lower back.

“W-Wait!” she protested. The don took her hands with his. They were hot and gross, and Tifa cringed so hard at the contact she stood still.

“Remember,” he said, “no fights.”

She felt the touch of Don Corneo’s lackey only for a moment, and then he was no more. Tifa reached to her lower back and, just above her butt, the paper was tightly secured against the cloth with the pin.

Before Tifa could even comprehend, the don’s hand was on her exposed back, gently pushing her.

“Have fun!” Don Corneo said as he shut the door of his office just behind her.

There she was again, on the first floor of that lavish mansion. Tifa felt the cold air on her skin, and a chill traversed through her back. She could do this, right?

The dark toned goon stood beside her.

“Ladies first,” Kotch said.

_Okay, just go buy that damn thing and return. It’ll be shameful, it’ll be horrible, but it’ll be over, eventually. Come on Tifa, you can do it! For Avalanche!_

Two steps towards the stairs she managed to make before a light pain in her rear end took her by surprise. The slap on her butt cheek echoed through the near vicinity. Tifa gritted her teeth hard, closing her eyes even, and turned around to face Kotch.

“No fights,” he said.

If only she could, she’d make that smirk disappear in a slow, bloody way. Her breath was agitated, that she knew. She found herself tightening her punches.

After some tense seconds, Tifa resumed her walk through the stairs. Undisturbed this time. It was hard not to notice the other members of the staff ogling her. She tried to appear nonchalant, walking as fast as possible in high heels.

In a flash she walked past the entrance, into the badly lit exterior. Tifa tried to pay no mind to the goons at the entrance too, utterly bewildered by the sight. Mortifying as it was, she had to stop herself just before the bridge, as Kotch had decided to walk at his own pace. Tifa looked back at the mansion, where the three guards were still looking at her from a distance.

 _At least they didn’t… spank me,_ she thought. But they surely saw the note at her back. Trying to shook those thoughts out of her head, her gaze focused on the Wall Market, her next destination. With any luck, it would be a five-minute trip.

“What’s the hurry, princess?” Kotch said.

“I just want this to be over. If you’re going to stroll, then I’ll go ahead. I’m sure any store sells that damn thing.”

“Hold your horses, girl. That’s not how it goes. The don is a man of fine tastes. He only trusts one place and, I assure you, he will notice if it’s not done as he likes it. I suggest you follow me unless you want to roam the market twice.”

Tifa groaned.

“Alright, fine. Lead the way.”

With a wide grin, he made his way across the bridge and into the market proper. As expected, his pace was sluggish, lazy even. Tifa walked by his side, trying to fasten the rhythm to no avail.

She noticed the stares, of course she did. They were everywhere. Confused at first by the outfit, then slightly scared by the company. Tifa could only hear the conclusion, as she forced herself to stare forward, not wishing to see the surprised faces as they read the note at her back.

A small crowd gathered, or so it seemed to the brunette, as they traversed one of the larger streets. They passed a pub, lights illuminating the entrance, were everyone loitering outside —men and women alike— turned their heads to observe the oddity on display.

“Kotch!” a voice said. “Kotch! You fucking scoundrel! How are you doing?”

A bulky man approached them from behind. Tall, with muscles protruding his tight fitting shirt.

“I can’t believe my eyes,” said Kotch, “I thought you never left Sector 4! What are you doing here?”

“Working. Sorta.” He laughed. “You know how this goes. I have to ask, though. What’s the deal with her? It’s some kind of promotion for the Manor?”

Tifa winced when the unfamiliar man pointed at her.

“… yeah, something like that. You know the don, always trying new things.”

“So, can I really…”

Kotch grinned.

“Yeah, of course.”

Without any warning, he extended his hand and slapped Tifa’s backside right there, in the middle of the street. Tifa closed her eyes once more, containing her murderous rage. The slap was heard by the neighboring crowd, picking their attention even more. With a side-glance, Tifa saw the smiles, the whispers, the lip-licking.

“Cool,” the man said. He walked to her side and slapped the other cheek, with a loud noise crackling through the air. “You have an amazing ass, you know?”

She tried not to look at his face. Tifa wasn’t sure she wouldn’t beat him into a bloody pulp otherwise.

“C-Can we go?” she managed to say.

Kotch nodded, clearly amused by the situation.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I’m on the clock too. We have to fetch something for the don. You have my number, right? Call me sometime, so we can catch up.”

“Yeah, sure,” he answered, his full attention centered on Tifa, “no prob.”

They resumed the slow paced stroll but, not even twenty seconds later, another man from the crowd closed in on them, speaking to Kotch.

“C-Can I really…” he said, pointing at Tifa.

“Yeah, sure, go nuts.”

Without uttering a word, the man positioned himself beside her and slapped her butt.

“T-Thank you!”

The man returned to his small groups of friends, hailed as a champion.

That, however, turned to be a bad precedent. Emboldened by what they’d seen, some people would stop them through their journey. And, of course, Kotch would always comply. The slow pace became a snail-fast one, stopping completely every few seconds, or every minute if she was lucky.

Fifteen minutes later Kotch finally pointed at a store. It had a large open section on the side of the street, which was clearly designed as a takeaway service. For the first time in what felt like forever, Tifa was relieved. Only half her journey to go.

“We would like takoyaki, please.” Tifa said to the woman operating the place, as they got closer. As soon as she did, she placed her back against the wall of the store, which gained her a questioning look from the woman. Tifa didn’t care. She was starting to get sore from the relentless slapping.

“It’s for the don, actually.” Kotch added. “You know how he likes it.”

“Certainly.” Unfaced by the request, a sign that it had become usual, the woman strode inside the store.

“They make them on the spot, y’know? Not that microwaved crap. It may take a while, though,” said Kotch. “So, how are you doing?”

Daggers were stared into him, which only made him crackle.

“That bad? I thought you were a fighter, by the clothes. I guess I was wrong.

Tifa remained silent.

With her back safely guarded, Tifa relaxed her posture. It wasn’t much, but a little respite was welcomed, especially after that ordeal, and the coolness of the wall seemed to calm the soreness of her butt.

_I hope it’s not becoming red. That would be so humiliating._

She couldn’t check, as that may draw attention to the crowd around. Part of her wouldn’t want to check even if she was alone to do so. Seeing her hurt backside would only make her resolve waver even more, sinking in the dread and shame of the situation at hand. And she needed every ounce of dignity still left in her body to overcome what was left of her particular odyssey.

People passing by still looked at her with different varieties of stares, from the confused ones to the less-than-subtle ‘I would fuck you senseless’. The thought of being nothing more than a piece of meat in display was as shameful as distressing. Tifa tried to regulate her breath, to calm her nerves, a task that was growing more difficult by the moment.

“Just a second,” a woman said from behind her, in the store. “I have to wrap it up and it’ll be ready. Just… what’s with the costume? I thought you weren’t allowed to leave the Manor with the costume on.”

Kotch stifled a laugh.

“It’s a promotion of sorts. Tifa, spin around to show the outfit to the pretty lady.”

_For fuck’s sake. Did that fucker just say my name?_

Tifa looked at her vicinity. At least no one except the woman heard that. She threw daggers at him, but complied. There was no need to make him mad, that would only cause more trouble down the road.

She did a spin, as ordered.

“Ah.” The woman said, a smile on her lips. “I see. A promotion. Right.”

“Would you like a sample?” Kotch said.

“I…” she contained a laugh, “yeah, sure. Just let me finish this.”

_Goddammit! Why is everyone in this town a downright pervert?_

Moments later, the woman left the store, with a small package in her hands, wrapped in the store’s logo. She handed it to Kotch before looking at Tifa with half a smile.

“I worked at the Manor for a couple of years,” she said. “It’s rough work, I’m sure you can guess why, but it’s not the shit hole everyone thinks it is. Before you know it, you’ll be out of there, I promise.”

She slapped Tifa with more strength than some of the previous men did.

“Sorry,” she said with a smile, “it’s just so fulfilling to be on the other end of the stick… There’s a store two blocks from here that sells a good ointment. You’re gonna need it. Great ass, by the way.”

The woman smiled, and returned to the store.

“Hey, that was actually a good advice.” Kotch said. “Want to…”

“We have what we came here for,” Tifa spat. “Let’s go.”

Their walk to the Manor was as amusing as Kotch thought it would be. The same streets, the same people. This time, however, she wasn’t a novelty, and everyone knew what was written on her back. More people stopped them on their way back, and without discretely slowing the pace even once!

It was beautiful. Men and women alike, they all wanted a piece of her. A very specific piece of her. None of them were gentle, though some were far more impetuous than others. Kotch had been ready to stop her if things got out of hand, of course. Luckily for her, it never came to that.

Through the journey, he let people have their fun while he had his. Don Corneo sure knew what he was doing: Some women were made to be fucked, some women were made to be ogled and, even rarer, some women were made to be humiliated. This girl, Tifa, was made for the latter.

She was the walking embodiment of that fact.

Every _single_ time someone slapped on her fine ass, it was written all over her face she wanted nothing else but to massacre everyone around. Yet she didn’t, and that contrast made all the difference.

Kotch stood still, admiring how Tifa’s lovely ass was beaten time and time again, red flesh sticking out over the fishnets. Yet all good things must come to an end. Even though she had seemed detached of the whole situation —for the most part of the journey, at least—, the moment the manor appeared on her sight, new determination grew on her.

The jig was up. Kotch dismissed the crowd around her, as there would be no point continuing any further. Tifa was baffled, though it was an appropriate reaction after all she went through. Her face did _not_ soften, however, as she still looked royally pissed. Kotch smiled inwards, already seeing the whole appeal of the situation. Don Corneo certainly had a keen eye for these kinds of things.

“Take this,” Kotch said, handing the small wrapped package to Tifa. “It was your job to do it, right? I’ll go on ahead, babe. This has taken more time than I expected and I have things to do.”

Kotch tried to hide a smile, he really tried, but seeing Tifa seething was way too funny for him. He picked up the pace, crossing the bridge, leaving the woman in a partial bunny suit costume behind.

He arrived to the front door, where Mike was already holding the door open for him.

“Leslie, hold her up for five minutes,” Kotch said, without stopping his stride. He smiled at Mike. “Perks of the job, you see.”

Fine taste reached his senses as Kotch entered the highly ornamented manor.

“Gentlemen!” Kotch exclaimed to the employees of the manor roaming inside. “The beauty you saw before will be at the front door in a moment. I’d hurry if I were you!”

Clark, Duran, and even the shy Aaron rushed to the entrance, devilish smiles on their faces, as Kotch walked up the stairs.

_When Don Corneo proposed a healthy work environment I was skeptical. It didn’t seem to fit in this kind of job. How wrong I was!_

Kotch made his way to Don Corneo’s office, both doors opening with grandeur. The don, seated behind his elegant desk, almost paid no attention to him, too engrossed watching something in what Kotch recognized as his personal laptop.

He wasn’t masturbating, so he got closer. Upon inspection, he _was_ looking at a video, though not the usual kind. Video footage, from a security camera of some sort. The room in the footage felt oddly familiar.

“I know that bed!” Kotch said. “That’s… your room, right?”

“Yes indeed!” Don Corneo said. Then he pointed at the screen. “You see this lump of bedsheets?”

That was his personal chamber without a doubt, the wutaian decoration gave it away. The images were most likely taken with the hidden camera installed there.

“Wait. Is that _Tifa_?”

The don started laughing.

“Yes! I _adore_ that woman. She’s so paranoid she changed into the bunny costume under the bedsheets.”

Kotch watched the small mountain of white tossing aside a black skirt, and a smile creeped up his face.

“Where is Tifa, by the way?” The don said. “Shouldn’t she be with you?”

“I let the boys have some fun,” Kotch said. “She’s at the front door, waiting to get clearance to enter. If you want to see…”

The don rose up, then walked to the window, where he took a long glance. Moved also by some sort of curiosity, Kotch followed him.

As he looked to the entrance, he recognized the costume immediately. Tifa was surrounded by the don’s trusted men, half chatting and laughing in front of her, the other half admiring the goods from behind. Kotch managed to recognize Mike as he slapped Tifa’s ass with a wholehearted smile.

“Well, they’re _certainly_ having fun…” Don Corneo chuckled and returned to his comfy seat. He then glanced at Kotch. “So, what do you think?”

“She’s something else, that’s for sure, if you can tame her. And I’m not sure if doing so won’t take the fun away: breaking her unyielding determination is what’s so interesting, after all.”

“A valid point,” said the don, “for another time. For now let’s enjoy what we have, shall we? I have many ideas I can’t wait to try… but all in due time. Call Leslie, will you? I’m hungry.”

The muffled sounds of high-heels halted just in front of Don Corneo’s desk, where Tifa left a small package on top of it.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Don Corneo said, opening the package to find his treasured snack. Still hot, even, just as he liked it. Using his own pair of chopsticks, the don relished on the flavor of the freshly made food. “Delicious…”

“Will that be all?” Tifa almost hissed.

The don lifted his index finger and started drawing circles in the air, ordering her to turn around without words. Tifa gritted her teeth, and the don could have sworn he saw her eye twitch a little, but complied nonetheless.

Her ass was red. Utterly, unequivocally, vividly red.

_What a beautiful sight._

Don Corneo stood up, leaving the takoyaki on his desk. He shortened the distance, standing by her side and trying as best he could not to laugh. “How was the trip?”

While Tifa remained silent, Kotch decided to intervene.

“We crossed some people on the way here. Tifa wears our lovely costume with so much elegance everyone stopped just to admire it. Queues were made to… _reach out_ to her. You should’ve seen it, it was amazing.”

“I bet it was,” the don said, “I bet it was…”

“Will that be all?” Tifa insisted.

“After all you’ve been through, I’m inclined to say _yes_ , but… I believe it’s my turn, isn’t it?”

Tifa sighed. Without uttering a word, already used to the motion, she pointed her ass towards him.

_It must have been a pretty damn long queue if she’s so subservient._

He took a long second to admire the red mess, before placing his hand on her right cheek. Tifa yelped, but before the brunette could say or do anything, Don Corneo hushed her. She took a long breath and looked away, letting his hand rest on the tender skin. Seeing her so submissive, the don used his other hand on her other cheek, feeling the hotness of her ass coursing through the palm.

Then, with both hands, he groped. He did it with strength, the fishnets pressing hard against his fingers, as well as the soft flesh. Tifa shivered, sensing his powerful grip. A thought crossed the don’s mind and he regretted not doing this with Tifa facing him.

What was done was done, however, and Don Corneo was not a man who revised his own actions. He groped the stunning brunette as if kneading dough, fingers reaching deep into the fat of her backside, and enjoying with pleasure the occasional uncomfortable shift in posture. He could sense the seething below the obedient façade.

When he withdrew his hands, after a couple of minutes, the don let her ass breathe for a second. Then he slapped her rear, the sound of flesh against sore flesh filling his office with a sense of distinct finality. _What an ending, though_.

He proudly looked at his creation: a perfect red ass.

“Lovely,” Don Corneo said. “With this, I believe we are done for the day, my dear Tifa. As I said, this was an exercise in trust, and you have gained mine completely.” He grinned, as always, while sitting on his chair. “I took the liberty to fold your clothes. They are in a bag, in reception, should you want to change before leaving. Oh, and, by the way, the HoneyBee costume is yours. Consider it a present. Of course, we will provide you with the rest of the ensemble on your next appointment. What costume would it be without the details!”

“T-Thank… you, don,” Tifa muttered. “How… _generous_ of you…”

“Nonsense, sweetie! It’s no trouble at all! I hope you take care of it. Do you want to change again in my bedroom? Because I can…”

“I can manage on my own,” said Tifa, as she made her way to the exit. “I’ll be leaving now.”

The doors closed without making much sound, and high-heels could be heard walking down the stairs half a minute later. Of course, the first thing Tifa had done was to tear the _announcement_ off her back. Don Corneo giggled, enjoying Tifa’s personality even without her near.

“That’s an expeditious retreat, if I have ever seen one,” Kotch said.

“Can you fault her? She decided to walk home with the costume on rather than to change here. That speaks volumes of our little experiment,” the don said. “So, any ideas for next time?”

“Not really, boss. I’m not known by my patience, if you catch my drift.”

“Yeah, well… true. Can’t argue that,” the don said, as he munched on his takoyaki. “I kinda want to see her naked, so it’ll be something along those lines, I guess.”

“She does have nice tits. Do you think she’ll comply? What if her bar starts doing well?”

“Kotch, Kotch. Do you remember what I always tell you?”

“Uh… ‘wutaian bitches are always the best’?”

The don looked at him with a puzzled expression.

“When did I say that? It sounds like me, but… Anyway, I digress. _You don’t get lucky; you make your own luck_.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means ‘baby steps’. If her heaven starts to get better, which I doubt, we just have to make it fall down to our level. Little things, really, but every stroke paints a bigger picture.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!
> 
> Feel free to leave comments or kudos!


End file.
